


Being in Charge

by Miso



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Power Bottom Dutch, Secret Relationship, kinda ig? i mean the gang knows, listen dutch is a Power Bottom [tm] and ill fight a guy, maybe lowkey spoilers for chapter 3? idk man this game has me Fucked Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 15:15:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miso/pseuds/Miso
Summary: Dutch and Hosea sneak away from camp to... enjoy each others' company.





	Being in Charge

**Author's Note:**

> look lads im as thirsty for arthur (who can def bone john as much as he likes) as the next bitch but c'mon these two are DEF a thing. hosea is a foxy grandpa, dutch is a selfish whiny power bottom and lowkey a slut and i TRIED to keep them vaguely in character but idk how that went. this is the first time ive ever written for either of these guys and i just started my second playthrough so forgive me if hosea esp is a little off. i mostly just wanted to write bottom!dutch bc everyone seems to think he's a dom top but i feel like he has mad power bottom energy. (also its like 4 am as i post this and this is after 2 full days of starting and restarting this rip. this game has me ruined)

Dutch van der Linde was a number of things. Dangerous, murderous, vengeful, grudge-carrying, unpredictable, downright insane, but one thing he wasn't was _soft_. He killed people without a second thought. When he made decisions, they were final, and no one and nothing could tell him what to do.

Except Hosea.

Their relationship was something of an open secret among the gang. They were never that openly affectionate, but they didn't make an effort to hide anything either. Everyone had witnessed the happy couple dancing outside of Dutch's tent, gazing at each other like lovestruck schoolboys. ("Maybe that's why Miss O'Shea is so goddamn bitter all the time," John offered one drunk evening by the campfire, and everyone who wasn't Molly fell over themselves laughing.) Hosea was the one, singular person on the entire planet who Dutch would ever acquiesce to. It wasn't uncommon to see Hosea lean over Dutch's shoulder, just a little closer than what most would consider acceptable for male friends, and Dutch lean into him without a word.

Molly O'Shea found herself exiled from Dutch's tent with regularity, and God only knew what happened in there when she wasn't around, but Hosea always looked quite pleased with himself the next morning when Dutch walked like he was saddle sore.

Those rare moments of genuine alone time, though; those were what both of them genuinely treasured.

They arranged weeks in advance, riding away from Clemens Point hours apart, creating excuses for their absences. Dutch wasn't even sure why they made excuses anymore; it wasn't like the gang didn't know. Maybe it was the little added thrill of acting like they were doing something illicit, bad, secret. Hell, even that was a flimsy reason, when he thought about it.

Rhodes wasn't much of a town, but the saloon was quiet after dark and it was easier to get there than to Saint Denis. Dutch sunk onto the bed- old tired bed, with complaining springs and pre-rumpled sheets- and set his hat aside, unbuttoning his vest and shrugging it off casually. No one who had anything to say would know. They were just two friends meeting in a saloon. They had a couple drinks and fell asleep. Nothing too out of the ordinary.

He was busying himself with unbuttoning his collar and rolling his sleeves up when he heard his and Hosea's familiar coded knock. Three soft taps and one slightly louder one. Universal, anywhere they might have had dedicated rooms, they had their little knock system.

He cracked open the door, just a bit, and felt tension leave his body when he spotted Hosea.

"You honestly thought it'd be anyone else?"

"Well, no, not really. Just like to make sure." Dutch stepped aside and opened the door for Hosea, shutting and locking it behind him. "... Anyone follow you?"

"No." Hosea shrugged his jacket off and left it to pile on the floor. He stepped a bit closer to Dutch, caressed his cheek and smiled at him. "No one knows."

"Good."

And with no further preamble, their lips met, a kiss that was needy and feverish. Hands tugged at clothes, a trail following them back to the bed; suspenders and boots and shirts and pants all falling into unceremonious lumps as the pair found their way to the bed. Scratchy sheets, scratchy stubble, rough hands all meeting on Dutch's skin, sending a tremor through him. God. Those long fingers of Hosea's were just _everywhere_ , plucking each and every one of Dutch's nerves and driving him into a frenzy.

"You do awful things to me, Hosea," he whispered, his fingertips digging into Hosea's shoulders. "Awful things."

"You like them." Hosea smirked and gave Dutch's ear a playful nip. "Hold on a second."

Bear grease was the one and only thing they had on hand around camp that made things less painful- and yes, they'd experimented, with everything they could think would work- for both of them. Hosea carried a bit on him when they were going off on their little dates; it sat in the pocket of his pants, warm so the shock of the cold didn't cause either of them to recoil. Dutch spread his legs leisurely as Hosea slicked himself, beckoned his lover closer, and gave his first (and, he hoped, only) little moment of vulnerability when Hosea finally pressed into him, gasping quietly and letting out a soft "oh, god," a sound that made Hosea snicker darkly before snapping his hips forward.

They'd grown used to being quiet during their trysts. It was standard practice. If they were alone- well and truly alone- Dutch was not only vocal but demanding. Even if Hosea was the one and only person he would be caught dead below, he damn sure wouldn't be caught below him and not giving orders as always. Hell, even when they _weren't_ alone, if they were in a hotel or a saloon or in camp, Dutch still found the time to throw his weight around a little.

"Deeper," he growled as Hosea shuddered a bit above him. "Fuck, Hosea, c'mon. You know what I like." Hosea let out a quiet hiss of mixed pleasure and pain when Dutch's nails scratched at his shoulder blades and down his back. "C'mon," he urged again, lifting his legs higher. "I'm makin' it easy for you, here."

"Dutch, god, give me a second," Hosea panted, "You know neither of us are as young as we used to be." He paused and straightened himself up for a minute, wiping sweat from his brow with his forearm, and took a moment to look over Dutch. "... You're still a true specimen, though."

"Thank you for the compliment," Dutch said dryly, "but I believe you had something more important to do than talk to me like some kinda romance novel hero."

"Would it kill you to let me make love to you once in a while, Dutch, instead of just pounding you into the mattress?"

"Maybe. I never tried it." Dutch smiled a little and pulled Hosea atop him again, their lips crashing together once again. "Now... where were we?"

Dutch had a way of commanding people even from underneath them. Hosea figured he should've known that after all these years, but god, part of him still longed for the ability to show Dutch how much he really did love him. He complied, though, driving himself into his partner with increasing intensity and ferocity. Dutch liked it rough.

"H-hey," Hosea managed, "Got a question."

"Now?" Dutch groaned.

"I just was wondering why _you_ never do this."

"How you mean?"

"I mean... you like bein' in charge, and all. You would think-"

"I can be in charge just fine from down here."

He had him there. "Clearly." Hosea leaned into a kiss and rocked his hips forward again. "You getting close?"

"Getting there," Dutch whispered back, tangling his fingers into Hosea's hair. "Touch me."

A graceful hand found Dutch's length, and involuntarily, his hips bucked into the touch. "Shit... didn't mean to do that."

"I love when you do that. Sometimes I'd like to feel like I'm actually the one doing the work." Hosea pressed his lips to Dutch's forehead and gently brushed an errant curl of hair that had become matted to his face with sweat out of the way. "... God. I'm a lucky man."

"Mmmh. Could say the same, my dear." Dutch wrapped his legs around Hosea's waist. "Don't stop now, c'mon..."

"You're gonna kill me one of these days with this, you know... you can go for hours. I'm getting too old for this."

"I don't hear you complainin'." Dutch tensed involuntarily and gasped as Hosea pressed in deep. "Shit, yes... like that..."

"Shhhh." Hosea pressed a hand over Dutch's mouth. When he earned a protesting glare in return, he whispered, "You know you get loud when you finish, Dutch. Just keeping both of us from going deaf."

A muffled protest quickly devolved into a muffled moan, as Dutch's eyes drifted shut and he felt himself rock upwards a bit. He always lost control when he came, and it was a treat to watch. "I know I'm not the only man you've had," Hosea whispered, "but God, it's amazing to get to see you like this... am I the only man who can get you to let go like this?"

"Mmmhm..." Dutch growled behind his palm.

"Knew it." Panting heavily and husky-voiced, Hosea swallowed hard as he felt the tension winding to a breaking point in his gut. "M'close, Dutch..."

Dutch made a noise that was somewhere between a pathetic whimper and a feral groan and used his legs to pull Hosea in as deep as possible, their hips touching just as Hosea lost his composure and white-knuckled the sheets with the hand not currently clamped over Dutch's mouth. "Shit! Fuck, Dutch, fuck... god..."

A moment passed before Hosea finally let Dutch speak. For a nanosecond, he regretted it when the first thing out of his mouth was "Seriously? You're gonna finish first and not let me get off? I was _so goddamn close_!"

"For once in your life, be patient." Hosea took a second to regain his senses, then trailed a hand back down Dutch's body to his length. Stroking slowly, gently, gliding a thumb over the head and watching his partner's reactions... god, it was almost enough to get him off all over again. Dutch visibly fought his body's reactions for a second, then gave in, rocking his hips upward and back, not sure if he wanted to feel Hosea's hand on him or his cock inside him more. He made a nearly pathetic whimpering noise (it would have been pathetic, Hosea considered, if it wasn't so attractive) and bit his lip desperately.

"Hosea-"

"You wanted me to finish you off. I'm doing that. Not what you wanted? I don't think I could give you the full monte again so soon."

"N-no, no, s'fine, just...!"

With a full-body shudder, a sudden buck of his hips, and a yelp that Dutch just barely muffled in time by covering his own mouth, Hosea felt Dutch's cock twitch in his hand as he came, panting heavily and dripping sweat, semen painting his stomach.

Dutch let out a quiet sigh and lowered his hand from his mouth when he was positive the aftershocks had passed. "... Shit."

"Hm?"

"... I needed that." Dutch scrubbed a hand over his face, little tremors still wracking him every now and then. " _We both_ needed that."

A pause as the pair took a moment to gaze into each others' eyes.

"... I love you."

"Love you too, Dutch."

They shared a gentle kiss and a brief minute of tender contact, foreheads pressed together as they relished the afterglow.

"... Alright. Get off me." Hosea found himself pushed back with a foot in his chest. "I need a goddamn bath. You ruin me."

"... Mind if I come?"

Dutch quirked an eyebrow at Hosea from where he was pulling his pants back on. "... If you can find a way to sneak in," he said, shrugging a little, "feel free, I suppose."

Hosea nodded in response and watched as Dutch redressed and eventually made his way down the stairs to purchase use of the bath.

As he plotted a way to sneak into the bath-room, his only thought was that he felt kind of sorry for the poor sap that paid for used water after them.


End file.
